I Stand Tall

Don’t tell me what to wear, what shade I must be,
Don’t cage my thoughts, let my spirit run free.
Don’t tell me what to say or silence my tone,
My voice has power — it’s mine, my own.

Don’t teach me how to walk, how slow or fast,
Your rules were made to make me last.
But only when it suited you well,
And when it didn’t, you pushed me to hell.

You whispered doubt and called it care,
You masked control in a loving stare.
You broke me down, bit by bit,
Till I lost my shine, my light, my wit.

Used like a tissue, once your need was gone,
You moved ahead like nothing was wrong.
But pain has power and wounds can speak,
I may have bent, but I’m not weak.

Today I’ve seen the truth so clear,
Your game, your lies, your voice of fear.
No longer trapped in your charade,
This time it’s me who draws the blade.

I choose to heal, to rise, to bloom,
To light my path and own my room.
Stronger than storms, brighter than flame,
You’ll never again play your cruel game.

I stand with pride, no more afraid,
In brokenness, my strength was made.
Don’t tell me how to be or why —This is my story, and I will fly.

— Akila Victoria Martin